The Gym
by Desperate Derelict
Summary: A CASKETT 'Day in the Life' vignette. Starts slow, ends well. Takes place on a bright spring day late in season 6. Chapter 6 is fixed (sorry!). Stand-alone ONE SHOT.
1. A Walk in the Sun

**Disclaimer I: The characters portrayed are the result of the fertile mind of Andrew H Marlowe, owned by AHM & ABC Studios, and brought to life brilliantly by Nathan Fillion, Stana Katic, **_et al. _**I own nothing.**

**Disclaimer II: Since I don't own anything, I shouldn't be held responsible for any mistakes contained therein. However, if I did screw up, PLEASE COMMENT! I can't get more gooder if I don't know what y'all want**

**Disclaimer III: I'm a total rookie, a babe in the woods. I have never ever ever submitted ANY fan fic , nor have I blogged, tweeted, or anything else...on any subject. Fell in love with the Castle universe 3 months ago and this is the resulting insanity. I have a dozen more ideas, most better than this. If you like this, let me know, and I'll do more. If not, I'll treat this like a winter cold, and hope it passes quickly. So, PLEASE COMMENT.**

_Takes place early spring in Season 6. A nice sunny day._

Castle threw a half-hearted wave and Kate a smile to Eduardo as the doorman swung the door open for them. They blasted into the bright sunlight and swung left down the wide sidewalk, all the while continuing their discussion.

"C'mon, Castle, don't be so glum. I bet you'll end up loving the place".

Castle looked down at Kate in the bright sunlight. Even after all this time, he was still amazed at her natural beauty. She just got prettier every day. Despite wearing her baggy workout clothes he thought she was the hottest girl in New York. He frowned as she threw on her Maui Jims, eclipsing those magnificent eyes, and replied "That's a bet you'd lose, and it won't even be close."

Kate adjusted the gym bag strap on her shoulder. "Look. There's three reasons this is going to be great." She lifted her index finger. "One is proximity – it's only a block and a building from our front door." Middle finger went up. "Dos – Everyone I've spoken to raves about Gotham Gym in general and this one specifically. It's fairly new and relatively deserted. " Her ring finger joined the other 2. "And C – it'll give us that much more time together." She gave him enthusiastic. "Hey, it'll be fun. Plus I'll no longer be stuck waiting forever at the precinct just to use their antiquated equipment."

"How long before you need to get back?"

Kate checked the big wristwatch. "I should have a couple hours. The ADA thought she'd be ready by then. She'll call and give me a half hour warning." She gave Castle a grimace. "Of course, I need to walk all the way to the car. Last night I had to park 3 blocks south 'cause all the good spots were taken. Why don't you ever put one of your cars on the street so I can pull right into the garage?"

Castle looked shocked. "You want me to park the Ferrari or the Mercedes on the street so your NYPD P-O-S can have a spot in the garage?"

"Castle, are you saying you love your cars more than me?"

He gave her hurt. "Of course not….. I'd never park YOU on the street..." As she rolled her eyes he grinned and added "…overnight."

They paused at the crosswalk to wait for the light. Kate swung around so she was facing Castle. She smiled and put her hands on his shoulders. "Listen, Rick, give this place a chance. The big 4-0 is in your rearview mirror. I am looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you, and I want to make sure it's a long and healthy life."

"I seem to remember, when we first started working together, you kept insisting that I was 12."

She took a step back and slowly raked him with a hungry look. All the way down to his toes, and all the way back up again. A brief reveal of tongue. "That'd make you what? 19 next week? Works for me, Castle."

Wow. This woman could give him a visceral thrill by just looking at him. He cleared his throat as the light changed. "Your inappropriate, and slightly disturbing, fantasies aside, I think I'm in pretty good shape…for any age. God knows I get a lot of exercise following you and the boys around."

She gave him sarcastic. "Castle, running down the street to the falafel stand is not exercise."

"Funny." Castle threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, fine, we'll check it out. Not more than an hour, right?"

They both paused in front of the gym. A few eager individuals could be seen through the picture window working out on the spotless equipment. The place looked cavernous.

"It's so big" they said in unison. This created two self satisfied smiles and a shared look, both remembering Beckett's words as she admired her new ring. The glass doors whooshed open as they stepped into the lobby.


	2. The Sales Pitch

The lobby was spotless, shiny, and new; all black and white and chrome. The carpet pile felt deep and soft. Silver letters 3 feet tall spelled GOTHAM CITY GYM on the far wall behind a tall black desk. The famous GCG silver logo was on the wall to their left, throwing reflective light around the 2 story lobby.

They removed their sunglasses and padded over to the desk, manned by a very beautiful blonde. Her pink company t-shirt looked painted on, the silver GCG logo catching the light every time she moved … or breathed. She gave Rick a dazzling smile. "Can I help you?"

Castle grinned and said "Hi!"

Kate, ever-protective, quick stepped directly in front of the girl, shuffling Castle a step to the side. Kate's smile flickered. "Hello. We called earlier. This is Rick Castle and I'm Kate Beckett. We're here to see Dylan Masters."

The smile widened, impossibly. "I'll see if Mr. Masters is available." The blond picked up the phone and pushed some buttons, while still eying Castle. Castle's grin faded slightly when Beckett gave him the 'look', her head tilted forward as she looked up at Rick through her lashes. He raised one eyebrow in response, as if to say "What?"

The blonde hung up the phone, and tossed her head to throw her long hair down her back. "Mr. Masters will be right out". She arched her back and crossed her raised arms, stretching both the shirt and Beckett's nerves. "It'll be just a sec."

Shortly, a tall, slim, bald man in elegant gray slacks, a bright blue oxford shirt, and a GCG logo tie emerged from a hallway off to their right. "Ms. Beckett? Mr. Castle? Good morning. I'm Dylan Masters." His handshake was dry, firm, and professional, his accent definitely Australian. "Why don't we step into my office?" He whirled back towards the hall.

As they moved to follow, Castle glanced back and said "Thank-you, Allison". At Beckett's return of the 'look", he asked "What?".

Kate asked "How did you know her name was Allison?"

"It was on her key card lying on the desk. Didn't you see it?"

Beckett matched Castle's playful smile. "Yes, I saw it. I just thought you were so busy trying to read her shirt that you'd missed it."

"Yeah, well, it was only three letters."

They followed Masters into a well appointed office, more black and white and chrome. Masters stood in front of a seat behind a glass topped desk and motioned them towards the two black leather chairs facing him. "Please. Make yourselves comfortable."

As they sat Masters continued, "I called my Mom when I heard you were coming in, Mr. Castle. She has to be one of your biggest fans. She's read the Storm novels so often they're falling apart."

Castle was smug. "Call me Rick. Always nice to meet a fan … or the relative of a fan. You can tell her that not only did you meet me, but you met the inspiration behind Nikki Heat as well." Castle nodded at Beckett.

Masters, obviously puzzled, asked "Who?"

Castle looked crestfallen. Hiding a grin, Kate stepped in smoothly. "Where are you from, Mr. Masters?"

"Please call me Dylan. Originally, I'm from just outside Melbourne. I've been here in New York about a year and a half. I wanted to be associated with the best fitness franchiser available, and that's Gotham".

"Well, a belated welcome. I'm Kate." Kate leaned forward. "Tell us about your club. Why is this the best alternative for us?"

Masters started to wax eloquently about his Gotham City Gym – the personalized service, state-of-the-art equipment, the juice bar, Olympic pool, the day spa, the wide range of classes, the daycare, and the 24 hour security. "We have a strict over 21 policy, and everybody's issued a keycard with your name and photo. Also, by signing up for a year, you'd both be at our Platinum Service level. That includes a permanent locker, and personal trainers assigned to accommodate your interests and needs."

Masters turned to his computer screen and clicked the mouse. "Kate, thank you for filling out our online questionnaire. Based on your responses, I think we've selected the perfect personal trainers for the both of you." He checked the monitor, and added "Rick, it sounds like you are looking for both cardio work and weight control". As Rick cast a dirty look in Beckett's direction, Masters continued. "We think that Cheryl will fit your needs. Apparently, she's a big fan of yours, because she seemed pretty excited to be assigned to you."

He scrolled down the screen. "Kate, your responses indicate that you're looking for both strength and agility conditioning. We believe you will find that Sam will work well with you. Also, you expressed an interest in the martial arts. You'll be happy to learn that we have classes in half a dozen different disciplines, from beginner to expert. Our instructors are, quite simply, the best."

Masters reached in a drawer and pulled out two key cards. "Unfortunately, I have an important meeting and won't be able to show you around today. I'll call Sherry and Sam down here momentarily to give you the tour. It'll give you a chance to get to know each other. In the meantime, here are two visitor badges. When you get your own badges, we can assign you your permanent lockers at that time. If you'd like, we can make them adjoining lockers."

"Wait, what?" Kate looked puzzled. "You have a unisex locker room?"

"Why, yes. Our clients seem to like that feature. Over 21, after all. Is that a problem?"

Kate put on her poker face. "No, not really." As Masters picked up the phone and asked for the trainers to come down, Kate caught Castle's eye and mouthed the word "Eew". Her expression was one of mild revulsion.

Masters hung up and swiveled towards them. "Our tour normally starts on the roof and works its way down to this level. Since I'll be in a meeting, I'll have your gym bags moved behind Allison's desk in the lobby. They'll be perfectly secure there". A knock at the open door announced the arrival of the tour guides. Masters stood up, smiled, and extended his hand.

Beckett and Castle stood up and shook Masters' hand, one after the other. "Nice to meet you" and "My pleasure" pleasantries were exchanged. The phone rang, and Masters muttered an apology and answered it. Beckett and Castle turned to meet their personal trainers.


	3. The Tour From Hell

A man and woman, both in their early twenties, moved in to greet them. The man was thin-waisted and broad shouldered, an inch shorter than Beckett's 5'9". Dishwater blonde hair fell in an unkempt bang over one eye and his sharp angular face produced a tight smile. He looked like a gymnast. As he offered his hand to Beckett, his ropy muscles extended from his bright red GCG shirt. "Hi, I'm Sam". His voice was pure Brooklyn.

As they shook hands, the woman stepped forward. If the receptionist Allison was pretty, this woman was spectacular. They both stared at her, because there was no way you couldn't. Easily standing 6 feet tall, her endless legs were thin, shapely, and well tanned. Her very short shorts were white and sheer to the point of translucent. Her green t-shirt perfectly matched her hazel eyes, and was a size too small, exposing her tiny, deeply tanned waist. Her close cropped hair framed a smiling face, lightly and expertly made up. Either she had forgotten her sports bra, or she had just stepped out of a freezer …. or both. "Hi, Mr. Castle. I'm Cheryl, but you can call me Cher. My friends call me that because I like to share." Their handshake lingered, as she refused to let go.

"Hi. I'm Rick". Castle refused to look at Beckett, though he was fairly certain what expression he would see on her face. He tried to tamp down his smile, but OMG this woman was stunning.

"Why don't we start the tour? Just walk with me. This way to the elevator." They exited the office and started down the hall. Cheryl grabbed Castle's arm. "I can't tell you, Rick, how excited I am to meet you. I think your books are terrific. I think I've read every one. I especially like the Nikki Heat ones. She is so cool. Do you really work with the police? That must be exciting. You'd have to be really brave to be able to do that. Do the cops think you're really smart? I bet they do. The way you solve all their cases? If I were them I'd be really grateful!"

Any thought of interrupting Cher's stream of gabble died after the 2nd attempt. Castle glanced back to say something reassuring to Beckett, but the look on her face quickly changed his mind. He could practically hear her teeth grinding. As Cher stabbed the "UP" button, Castle squeezed in "Kate here was my inspiration for Nikki Heat."

Cher turned towards Beckett, gave her a strained smile, and said levelly "That must be so nice for you." She then turned back to enter the elevator.

Sam pushed the "Roof" button on the elevator panel as he stepped in. Castle hung back so that he could stand next to Beckett in the front of the elevator. As the door closed he pivoted to face the doors and whispered "You're not armed, are you?"

Beckett didn't even smile. "No, but that can be quickly remedied."

The elevator car slowed to a stop, and the doors opened into the bright spring day. They emerged into a small glass-enclosed anteroom that reminded Castle of a bus stop. He looked around. Large, blue wind screens were attached to a cyclone fence that ran around the edge of the building. Just inside the fencing a bright blue running track, 8 lanes wide, encircled the large roof. Half a dozen joggers were on the track running in a pack. They stepped onto the track just after the joggers passed, and turned to follow them.

Sam explained, "This track is exactly a fifth of a mile. We'll walk around to the stairs that are on the other side." He nodded to the other side of the roof, dominated by the New World Trade Center in the background. "If we stay on the outside of the track, we won't get runned over." He looked at Beckett. "You kinda look like a runner, Sweetheart. Do you jog?"

"The names Kate. And no, not really. Partially because I don't live that close to a running path, and partially because it's so time consuming." The pack of runners passed by again on their left. "Why, do you recommend it?"

"Nah, not unless you're competin' or you need cardio." He bounced on his toes on the springy surface. "Even with good surfaces the wheels get worn out. Not that there's anything wrong with your wheels."

Cher stepped over and reclaimed Castle's arm. "I, on the other hand, just love to run. It makes me feel so free and full of endorphins. It's my 3rd favorite exercise." She paused, but Castle, for once in his life, wisely stayed quiet. It didn't matter. "My 2nd favorite is working some of the machines downstairs. I'll show you those later. They make me all tingly in the most amazing places." Castle still refused to bite, but she continued anyway. "Of course, my fave I don't do here. At least, not very often." She giggled.

Good Lord, this woman was a walking straight line. Castle was getting a sore jaw from clamping his teeth together. A mantra started in his mind. "_Just don't smile. Just don't smile. Just don't smile_."

The runners passed them for the third time. Their legs seemed to effortlessly eat the distance. Beckett thought if they weren't running 4 minute miles, they were close. She nodded towards the runners. "These guys are impressive."

Sam was nonchalant. "Yea, I guess." He motioned towards a door. "This way to the stairs, Sweetheart."

"It's. Kate." Beckett's flattest voice.

"Hey, Honey, I know your name. I read your form." Sam leered at her form as he swung the steel door open. "Watch your step."

Castle was getting seriously concerned. They had only just started the tour. If this continued, Beckett was going to stroke out before they were done.

They entered the stairwell and started down. The next 20 minutes seemed endless to Beckett. They checked out the indoor track, a mirror image of the roof track, which had a dozen runners on it, running as fast as those on the roof. They saw the Olympic sized pool, which sported a dozen lap lanes, half of which were being used by freestylers. The way they were zipping through the water made Kate think of a swim meet. Cheryl discussed, at length, the Doggie Paddle Pool time, when members brought their dogs to go swimming ("So-o-o cute!"). Beckett didn't believe it until she saw it on the posted schedule, followed immediately by a couples' skinny dip. She wore a nauseated expression for minutes afterward.

They visited the juice bar, where Cher pointedly suggested they stop to try her favorite, the 'Cher's Explosion'. It was simply 'too much flavor' for one person, and had to be shared. She was looking at Rick like he was the straw in her smoothie. Beckett's nausea increased. They managed to decline and move on.

Thankfully, they were spared the main locker room ("It's just a bunch of lockers and showers and stuff"), the employee offices, and the recreation lounge. As they exited the floor with the Day Spa, Cher asked brightly, "Hey, Rick, I bet you can't guess what your biggest organ is?"

Castle thought of and rejected half a dozen answers in a second. He REALLY didn't want to be responsible for a homicide at the gym, especially his own. His mantra went into hyper-drive. '_JustDon'tSmile. JustDon'tSmile. JustDon'tSmile. JustDon'tSmile_.' Discretion being the better part of valor, he managed a neutral 'No' while avoiding Beckett's gaze.

"It's your skin, silly. It's the most important organ you have. You really have to take care of it, if you want it to take care of you." She started rubbing her bare arm as they arrived at the 2nd floor, marked 'Class and Meeting Rooms'. "They have some great lotions at the spa, but I have a homemade one that's even better." She paused in front of Rick and started rubbing the inside of her thigh. "It makes everything soft and smooth."

A small whimper escaped Castle. _Don'tSmile Don'tSmile Don'tSmile Don'tSmile Don'tSmile._

Sam, of all people, rescued Castle. "This floor has the meeting rooms and classes. This is where you'd take Yoga and Karate and Pilates and all that crap."

They paused in front of a picture window showing a large, carpeted bare room. Thirty or more young men and women were dancing in perfect synchronicity to an old AC/DC rock song. The strong looking black woman in front of the class was shouting instructions and encouragement. Everybody was smiling. Nobody was breathing hard. They all performed a leg kick, and every leg went WAY higher than their heads.

Castle looked on the door. A placard read simply "Intermediate Aerobics Dance" above the GCG logo. Suddenly, the instructor grabbed a remote and the music abruptly ended mid-verse. As everybody stopped, the instructor moved swiftly to the left side of the class, and loudly started berating a couple of young women. Words like 'lazy' and 'if you can't keep up then get out' could be heard in the hallway. The instructor was really ripping them a new one. The girls looked ready to cry.

Beckett turned to look at Castle's face. The expression she saw was one of shock, and hurt. Here was this dear, sweet, considerate man, a man who cried during _reruns_ of sad movies, who lavishly donated money when he felt he could ease suffering, watching these two girls get reamed. She walked over and grabbed his hand. She sometimes forgot that her partner had not been hardened by years as a beat cop. His little murder hobby aside, he really was a gentle soul. He looked totally stunned.

She said gently, "Come on, Castle. Let's keep going." As they turned away, the rock song began again, the instructor exhorting the class the show a little zip and have some FUN.

They didn't speak during the descent to the first floor. Instead, Beckett grabbed his hand and squeezed. As he turned towards her, she gave a small smile and half-raised eyebrows – an 'Are you alright?' unspoken question. His responding sigh, nod, and lopsided smile let her know that he would survive, though obviously not thrilled with the current situation.

As they entered the first floor hallway, Cher stepped up on Castle's other side. "Don't worry, Rick, she'll have them whipped into shape in no time." She stepped across and opened a door. "Here's my favorite part of the tour. Welcome to the fun room."


	4. The Fun Room

They found themselves in the rear of the workout center they had seen earlier from the street. Seemingly hundreds of machines were regularly spaced throughout the huge room. Treadmills, Norcross machines, and stationary bicycles were interspersed with strange fitness contraptions. For some, Castle couldn't even begin to guess their purpose, but began to think of torture devices. The Saw movies flashed through his mind.

Sam took the lead, showing some enthusiasm for the first time that day. "One of the great things about this club is the variety of fitness machines they got." He donned a pair of fingerless leather gloves, and pointed at different clusters of equipment. "Abs, lats, biceps and triceps, multi-purpose, calfs and thighs, more multipurpose." They walked down an aisle in the back of the room. "Over here are the cores. It's real important to improve your core before workin' on anything else." He glanced at Kate. "However, you might be interested in this one, Honey, before we do the cores. We call this the phone booth."

As Cher and Castle continued on, Sam and Kate paused in front of a strange apparatus. It looked like the bottom 3 feet of a raised phone booth, with 2 gymnast rings hanging several feet above it. Sam stepped up into the piece of equipment. "This sucker really improves agility." He fiddled with some controls. A small TV screen came to life in front of him, showing 'The View'. He changed it to ESPN, flipped a switch, and grabbed the hoops just above his head. The device began to whirr, and he started moving his legs. "The key is to pay attention, and keep your knees bent." On the bottom left of the TV screen, a small box appeared and started to flash lights mysteriously. Sam stayed on the machine another minute, never breaking a sweat. He finally flipped the switch, and the whirring stopped. "Here, you try it." Sam backed down the steps.

"Okay." Beckett stepped up. The metal floor appeared to be broken into a dozen segments. She flipped the switch and gripped the rings. Without warning, the floor dropped away. "Whoa!" All of her weight was being supported by her arms. She tightened her grip on the rings and looked down. Different small sections of the floor would rise, stay in place momentarily, and drop away again before she had a chance to step on it.

"Check the screen, Sweetheart" Sam called in exasperation. Sure enough, the small inset on the TV was showing which floor section was rising. Beckett began anticipating where to place her feet, only missing every third step. It was impossible to check the screen and watch the floor simultaneously. She was panting, her forearms screaming in complaint. "Bend your knees!" she heard. It was like playing 'Whack-A-Mole' with her feet.

She was now missing only every 4th or 5th step when Sam reached up and hit the power switch. The floor returned to normal and the TV screen went blank. "Fifteen minutes a day and your agility will improve in no time!"

"How long was I on?" huffed Beckett.

"Oh, about 50 seconds."

Beckett shakily stepped down and trailed Sam. She could see Castle getting off a Norcross machine ahead. Sam stopped in front of a tall device with a pull-down bar just above their heads. Sam nodded towards Castle. "Sherry is going to show him a full bench pull down, but these stand up ones are better." He reached up, grabbed the overhead bar with his left hand, and lowered it in front of Beckett. "Stand with your feet shoulder width apart and your back straight. This'll allow you to build up your back and shoulders."

Beckett adjusted her stance and grabbed the bar. Sam let go.

Beckett's hands shot up and the bar slipped from her grasp. A loud clang reverberated through the room as the counter-weights clanged down in the machine. The bar must have had a two hundred pounds attached! Everyone within 50 feet turned to stare.

Sam smirked. "We'll work on it."

Beckett's slow burn from the tour was turning into a white hot inferno. Her mood wasn't helped at all by what she saw next. As Castle lay on a half bench, feet braced on the floor, Cher swung a long leg over him and lowered herself on to his legs, straddling him. She reached up and grabbed the bar above Castle and began to lower it.

Beckett stopped right in front of their machine and locked eyes with Castle over Cheryl's shoulder. In a glacial tone she quipped, "Castle, I would think very carefully before I reached for ANYthing."

Castle's arms, already reaching for the bar, dropped like birds shot out of the air. Cher stood up and looked down on Beckett. "Well, aren't we getting a little snippy." Castle's eyes were large with alarm.

Beckett shook her head and continued on, wondering how any of her friends could have possibly recommended this place. It was more like a house of horrors than a spa. She caught up with Sam near the far wall.

Sam turned to her, and gestured at the surrounding room. "All this equipment is great, but it's also important to do isometric work. Low impact work like crunchies, push-ups, and pull-ups work your whole body when done right."

Beckett's phone buzzed. She grabbed it and snapped, "Beckett." As she listened to the caller, Sam jumped up and caught an overhead bar. Oblivious to Beckett's call, he started doing pull-ups with perfect form. He talked about the difference between chin-ups and pull-ups, triceps versus biceps, and proper techniques. His breathing was slow and even, as he pulled his head above the bar every two seconds.

Beckett ended the call. "Got it. I'll be there in half an hour." She looked at Sam. She was reminded of a piston in a 357 Chevy, going up and down relentlessly. "Sorry, Sam, gotta go." She didn't bother to look sorry.

Beckett retraced her steps around the endless machines, until she was standing in front of Rick, now on a stationary bike. "Castle, the DA's office called. They finished sooner than they thought, and want to start the witness preps." She turned to look at Sam in the corner, relentlessly pulling himself up and down with metronome regularity. "That guy's a freak" she exclaimed in awe.

"He looks like a red paddle ball". Castle pantomimed waving a paddle up and down. "You know, like on a string".

"Are you through with Xena the Amazon Princess yet?"

Castle dropped his voice to a whisper. "Absolutely. That girl scares me. She went to get some of her _homemade lotion_. Let's get our gym bags and get the hell out of here."

They slipped out into the hallway and hurried past Masters' closed office door, and entered the lobby. An early lunch crowd was filtering in from the street. They quickly traded Allison their visitor passes for their gym bags, and escaped into the sidewalk traffic. They turned south towards the loft.

"Whew" Castle sighed "it feels like we were in there for hours." He grabbed Beckett's hand in his. "Do you want to go back to the loft to shower and change?"

"No, but thanks for the offer. The DA really did call – and not a minute too soon. I'll shower and change at the 12th." Beckett gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm so-o-o sorry about today. What a bizarre place! I promise to make this up to you tonight."

"Okay – I'll hold you to that promise". They crossed the street and paused on the far side, the loft to the east and Beckett's car to the south. Castle squeezed her hand. "Have a great day".

Beckett stepped in and kissed him briefly but thoroughly on the lips. "Good luck on the revisions. I should be home around 8, unless something weird happens." She turned and bounced down the street, gym bag swinging from her shoulder. Castle remained still, following her with his eyes. His smile, suppressed for the last hour, escaped and filled his face. He turned towards home.

As Beckett made her way to the car, a familiar, nagging intonation started in the depths of her mind. After over a dozen years as a cop, she had learned to recognize and respect this inarticulate voice. Her Mom would have called it female intuition. Some of her NYPD brethren called it "gut" or "cop sense". She actually called it her 'itch', and thought it was her subconscious, responding to minutia that her mind hadn't consciously processed. As a beat cop, Mike Royce had shown her how to nurture this itch until it could be brought into her consciousness. Thousands of interviews and interrogations as a detective had increased her sensitivity to things that were offbeat or inconsistent.

She blanked her mind, to allow her subconscious to work. Two blocks later, as she approached her car, the thought finally formed. She stopped dead in her tracks, making the sidewalk crowd around her flow past like a stream past a boulder. "Son of a ..." Kate put her head back and laughed aloud, something she never did. Well, at least never before she had met and fallen for Richard Edgar Alexander Rogers Castle. She pulled out her cell phone and thumbed through her contact list. She found the right name and stabbed the button gleefully. Two could play at this game.

The phone was answered on the first ring. After hearing an answer and a greeting from the familiar contralto voice, Kate replied "Hello yourself. Something really weird just happened. Are you busy right now? I have a favor to ask…."


	5. The Con Game

Castle stepped into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower. He filled a bowl full of caramel corn, and proceeded to his office. He sat down and stared at his laptop and sighed. He hated revisions. Writing was a joy, revisions were work. Before opening the laptop, he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. He tilted back and put his feet up on the credenza, staring out into the bright blue sky.

"Gotham City Gym, how may I help you?"

"Hi. This is Rick Castle. Is Dylan Masters available please?"

"One moment, sir. " Castle hit the speaker button and set the phone down. He put the bowl of popcorn on his lap and started crunching. Soon he heard the familiar Aussie voice. "Hey Mate! How'd we do?"

Castle laughed. "Dylan, we are talking Academy Award performances. For Everybody. It was awesome. Where in the world did you find Allison and Cheryl?"

"Well, believe it or not, they are the current Miss Wisconsin and Miss Ohio, respectively. They are in town for a photo shoot, and we let them use the gym when they're here. They are both fans of yours, and jumped at the chance to play a practical joke for you. I promised them an autographed book."

"Miss Ohio, really? Is she as empty-headed as she pretended?"

"Rick, she's 2nd year med school."

Castle laughed again. "Probably going to be a dermatologist. Very impressive. What about Sam? What's his story?"

"Sam actually is a member here. He competes internationally in Weight Lifting. He's the American title holder – Bantam Weight, of course. I believe he's the current World Record holder in either the Snatch or the Clean and Jerk, I forget which."

"The what or the what?"

"The Snatch. Or the Clean and Jerk. I don't name 'em, mate, I just report 'em. Regardless, the guy's a freak."

"That's exactly what Beckett said. How did you get that many people in on it? The runners and swimmers and especially the aerobics class?"

"Well, that was just good timing on your part – that's why I suggested that time today. The runners and swimmers are the NYC Triathlon team – one of the teams we sponsor – and they work out here the same time every week. The aerobics class was sheer luck, and is from right down the street – the St Jean University Dance Team. They are urgently training for some national competition. Sherry told me what happened when you were watching the class. I'll talk to their head Sheila about toning it down. So, we did okay? "

"Dylan, it was epic. Thank you so much."

"No, Rick, thank-YOU for sponsoring our little league team again this year. I'll have to email you a schedule of their games so you can check them out. For inner city kids who'd never played until last year, they're getting pretty good."

"That'd be great, Dylan. It's my pleasure."

"Oh, and Rick, your fiancé's not wrong. It wouldn't hurt for you to drag your writer's butt in here from time to time."

"Yeah, I know. It'll happen soon, just not today. I'll talk to you soon, Buddy."

"See you around, Mate."

A self-satisfied grin stretched across his face as he reached to hang up the phone. Chalk up another job well done.

"RICHARD CASTLE!"

The caramel corn went flying as Martha's voice from the doorway startled him into an upright position. As he closed his eyes he literally could feel the blood drain from his face.

"Oh shit!"


	6. Retribution

_Spoiler Alert: If you don't know how Beckett figured it out, you might want to give it some thought before completing the story. Takes place that same day, in the evening._

Castle pulled the fresh bread out of the oven. He was making Beckett's favorite dinner and one of his best recipes, Osso Bucco, that the head chef at L'Artesian had taught him. He had texted Kate earlier, letting her know that a new spot in the garage had miraculously opened up. He cringed at the thought of the price, especially since it had not elicited the hoped for response from Beckett. Or any response at all. He was just setting the table when his cell phone chirped.

He checked the screen and saw Esposito's face. He clicked the button. "Hey, Espo, what's up?"

"What is up is not you, my friend. We're just leaving the Old Haunt. I'm calling to give you a weather report. Beckett blew in here, had a Cosmo, and blew out again. Beckett storm warnings are posted all over the island. I will say, though, that Ryan and I were totally entertained by the story of your morning."

"Did she seem….upset?"

He chuckled. "Bro, you are a dead man walking." Esposito, message sent as instructed, hung up.

Castle sighed. So much for damage control.

Shortly, he heard the key turn in the lock. He plastered a smile on his face and turned to meet his doom. Beckett strolled in, gym bag on her shoulder and case files filling her arms. She smiled and called out, "Yum. Smells great. When's dinner?"

"About 5 minutes."

"Great. Let me unload this stuff." As she entered the bedroom she shouted, "Thanks for the parking spot. It makes a HUGE difference when I'm schlepping all this junk."

"No problem." Castle started to relax. It looked like he might survive the evening. He finished setting the table, Beckett's place snugged to his left. He filled the plates and salad bowls, and was just pouring the decanted wine when Beckett emerged. He pulled out her chair and bowed. "Your dinner awaits, Madame."

Beckett walked up to Castle and gave him her best cop stare. She slowly and pointedly took her place setting, plate, salad, water, and wine glasses and shifted them to the seat opposite Castle. She took her seat and pointed towards Castle's chair, inviting him to sit. Castle broke from his frozen stance and melted into his place.

Beckett slipped the linen napkin onto her lap and took a sip of wine. She then gave Castle a tight smile totally devoid of humor and inquired "Have you been informed of your rights, Mr. Castle?"

"Seriously? We're going to do this over dinner?"

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Allow me to reiterate your rights, or lack thereof. You do NOT have the right to be silent." She took a bite of salad, chewed, and swallowed. "You do not have the right to an attorney." She took a bite of dinner, and ate that. "Even though you can afford a host of attorneys, none can now save your sorry ass." She picked up her bread, broke off a small piece, and nibbled. "Anything and everything you say can and will be used against you for the rest of your life." Another sip of wine. "If…no, when…you answer questions now, you do not have the right to stop answering." Another bite of dinner. "Knowing and understanding these lack of rights, are you willing to answer my questions fully and completely, Mr. Castle?" More salad. "Or should I just shoot you now?"

"Perhaps that would be less painful. My mother said you called her. How did you twig to it? What gave us away?"

"I'm a de-tec-tive. It's what I do." Another bite. "Plus, I'm much smarter than you."

"Apparently. We thought we had you fooled." Perhaps by using plural pronouns he could deflect some guilt. He looked closely at Beckett. Well, maybe not.

"Come on, Castle. Talk."

"Okay, but only on the condition that you tell me how you figured it out."

"I don't think you're in a position to bargain. However, I'll tell you…after the court renders its sentence."

"How can somebody as gorgeous as you project so much menace?"

"Years of practice. Quit stalling, Castle."

"Okay. Okay." Denial wasn't going to work anyway, so why not get it over with? Castle unloaded. The little league team. His friend Dylan. The pool schedule. Miss Wisconsin. Miss Ohio in Medical School. Beckett was trying very hard not to smile. The tri-athletes. The St. Jean's Dance Team. The world class weight lifter. Beckett couldn't stand it anymore, and a broad grin broke through. Castle, still feeling on thin ice, let a smile escape.

"Clean and Jerk? World record Jerk? That is so perfect." Beckett looked straight into his eyes, and her smile slipped a little. "All this to avoid working out with me?" She said it lightly, but Castle could see the hint of pain in her eyes.

"Oh, no! Oh, Kate, it has nothing to do with you. Look. I've never been athletic. I've always been 'the nerd'. Sure, I can participate in those sports that require good technique but have never played the big, organized sports. The ones that rely on speed and strength and agility. In my whole life I've never jogged, much less worked out, before. I see ex-jocks like you and Esposito attacking the gym and SMILING and think, I could never do that."

Beckett, a 3 sport athlete in high school, gave it some thought. "Rick, you won't know 'til you try. You can't. One thing that tour from hell taught us today is that there are a lot of ways to stay in shape." She finished her wine and smiled. "Maybe you can join the St Jeans Dance Team?"

"I hate AC/DC."

Beckett cleared her throat. "Well Mr. Castle, should we clear the table, or do you want to hear the court render its decision?"

"Might as well do both." They stood and grabbed their dirty plates.

"Mr. Castle, it is the decision of this court that you should be sentenced to a long and happy life." Beckett went back for some glasses. "Since you have a penchant for fried foods and packaged snacks, have never met a cream sauce you didn't like, and in general eat like a goat, you and I will be going down to the Gotham City Gym tomorrow morning and sign up for a year." She went back for the silverware. "Assuming Masters was kidding about that unisex locker room. The court acknowledges your reticence for a standard workout regimen, and will do everything in its power to make it fun."

"As long as it's fun" Castle uttered miserably as he started putting the leftovers away.

"Furthermore" Beckett continued "I realize that the purchase of the new parking space was done in some forlorn hope of mercy, trying to curry favor with the court. However, it's too damn nice to give up, so this court is going to keep it."

Castle grinned. "Yea, I had that one figured out. Hey! Speaking of which, you promised to let me know how you caught on to my little scam. If the court is through...?

"There is one more part of your sentence to disclose, but the court can tell you that later. Hmm, I'll give you a hint. Think: the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Silver Blaze? The dog that didn't bark?" Castle looked totally perplexed. "What didn't we do that we should have?"

"Castle! How long have I known you? We went to the GOTHAM CITY gym. Not once did you mention Batman, the bat mobile, the bat cave, Robin, The Penguin, The Riddler, or the Joker. Not once! That either meant that you were really preoccupied with something or you'd been there before. As it turns out, it was both." Kate was smug.

"Well, Detective Beckett, I am totally impressed. Sherlock Holmes would be proud."

Castle turned towards her. She stepped into his space, her long fingers massaging his shirt lapels. She looked up into his eyes and lowered her voice to a murmur. "Here's the 3rd part of the court's sentence." Her voice grew husky, her eyes large. "The curious case of the champion snatch & clean & jerk has given this court some delicious ideas for, um, a new nighttime sport. It will require lots of stamina, but penalizes for speed. Why don't you finish up in here, and then join me in the bedroom for our own Olympic competition?" Her smile was so lascivious it bordered on evil. "Who knows? You might just…medal."

"Uh, all right." Castle's voice was a hoarse whisper.

Beckett spun around and sauntered through the bedroom door.

Castle turned back to the sink, and started rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. He gave a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deities were tuned in, for bringing this wonderful woman into his life. This vibrant and intelligent woman, who had overcome so much, and still gave so much of herself. This sexy and fun girl, who had willingly tied her fortunes to his.

Wait. This fun girl who had compared him to a goat! A nasty yet hysterically funny idea began forming as he wiped down the counters. He was sure he could get his friends at L'Artesian to cooperate on the gag. He'd need to get Beckett to make the reservation so she wouldn't be suspicious. Now all he needed was to find a high-end jeweler with a wicked sense of humor….

From the bedroom he heard her sing-song voice. "Oh Castle, you coming?"

He smiled at her phrasing. He tossed the sodden dish towel in the sink, and started for the bedroom. He'd never be a world class athlete. So what? He felt phenomenal.

Tonight, for the first time in his life, he was going for the gold.


End file.
